For The Game
by kellsmarie
Summary: . Tonight is the night you have been imagining since the first time you held a football in your hands, but it has been turned out to be nothing like the perfect victory you once envisioned at the tender age of eight.


A/N: My original idea was to write something involving Matt and Jules, but then... I have no idea what happened. Technically, it could still work for them, but really, it's not at all. Make sense? Not really. In other words, I ended up writing this about someone special to me, and for the record, I **_do_** wish that I was the girl in the bleachers. But I loved this too much to let it waste away in the memory of my computer. So, I guess this is a slightly AU one shot... Kinda sorta. If you do read it, let me know what you think. Thanks. :)

Prompt: A high school quarterback is offered a college scholarship, but only if he throws the state championship.

Two minutes left in the fourth quarter, the score is 14-14, and your head is pounding as beads of sweat break out on your forehead despite the near freezing early November temperatures. Tonight is the night you have been imagining since the first time you held a football in your hands, but it has been turned out to be nothing like the perfect victory you once envisioned at the tender age of eight. Back then, you had thought that the game was a haven, it would make you a hero and a star. You never thought that it would once turn you against your best friend, your family, or your high school sweetheart the way it has now. And you have no idea what the hell your next move is going to be.

Notre Dame is your dream school, there's no doubt in your mind about that. When you fantasize about the next year of your life, you see yourself making the winning touchdown on that all-too familiar field in South Bend, catching the smile of your girl from her usual seat in the bleachers. It's perfection to a T, and it gives you that same exhilarating feeling you felt when your father leaned down next to you during your first Notre Dame game as a spectator and said, "You're going to be the one playing out there someday, son, just like I did." But that was before you had encountered the corrupt world of college scouts and their manipulative, scheming, evil, malevolent methods used to recruit the ultimate team.

It was a little over a month ago when you were first approached by a scout from Notre Dame. You had no idea that there was even going to be reps at the game, and you had played far from your best, fumbling the ball more than you had in any other game that season. It came as a huge shock to you when he came to you, not the other way around, and requested that the two of you talk as soon as possible. Again, this was before you knew about his conniving plan to possess complete control of you to a certain extent. "Do everything right, make sure that this damn team makes it to the playoffs, then all the way to the championship game. Then, you give them the biggest heartbreak of all: You throw the game."

You thought that you would be willing to sell a kidney on the black market a year ago if it meant you were promised a full ride to your dream college, but things like this don't happen where you come from. Your high school hasn't made it to the playoffs in over a decade, and a state championship has never happened. You're one of 546 students in a small town school, and you weren't about to beat out campuses that consisted of 1000+ student bodies for the state title. But it was his last words before he slipped away, going to talk to his next victim, that stuck with you. "If it's something you want as bad as you've told us, you'd be willing to do anything."

So, here you are, the last game of your high school career, and you have no idea what the right thing to do is anymore. Your team has possession of the ball, a victory isn't as farfetched as it seemed when you first brought up the idea of twice as many practices, including weekends, and your first game of the season which ended in a defeat, but it's your damn DREAM school. You don't just throw something like that away, much like a state championship.

As you take your position on the field for this decisive play, your best friend's shoulder bumps into yours roughly, and one look at his menacing glare lets you know that it was no accident. You told him a week ago about this dilemma that has caused you countless sleepless nights and a slip in your grades that's going to screw over your GPA if you don't double the effort your putting towards your schoolwork. Since then, he's barely uttered five words to you. "You had better know what you're doing, 21." Make that twelve and a number.

The announcer is droning on about how close the score is, how it's anyone's game now as the palm your hand curves around the familiar shape of the ball. As the other players around you settle into position, you steal a quick glimpse of the bleachers. There's your family, all wearing the school's colors, their cheeks and noses red from the chilly night air. Your little sister is bouncing up and down in her seat from the excitement coursing through her veins, an excitement you realize is contagious as you watch her for a minute longer. Your mother mouths an "I love you", a gesture she knows you would rather live without, but one that you've learned to live with throughout the years of football games and Friday nights. Then, there's your father with his calm disposition and almost unreadable expression, but you know that deep down, he's just as ecstatic as the rest of the fans. The man's been freaking oblivious to the turmoil your life has become, and you really doubt that he's about to catch onto it.

As a final thought, you glance farther down in the stands, to the far corner where your girlfriend since sophomore year is sitting amidst the majority of her friends. She's far from the cheerleaders that the other players are currently dating, but she's the best damn thing that's ever happened to you. She's sweet, funny, smart, cute, the girl next door in living form. She's the girl that you always saw yourself with but didn't really believe existed. She gives you a small smile when you glance her way, one that you can't help but return, and you know that she's nervous even if she doesn't know just what's going on. And that's when it finally dawns on you.

A year from now, it's not going to matter just where you are. Maybe you'll still be accepted to Notre Dame, and you'll work two jobs this coming summer to help pay for your tuition. Maybe you'll end up at a smaller school, still playing football the way you've always dreamed. Maybe you'll stay at home for a year and try to figure out what you really want if football is really out of the question. Whatever the outcome of this game though, you'll still have the support of your parents. You'll still have a best friend to live vicariously through when it comes to a football career. And you'll still have your girl who will love you no matter if you win or lose. And that's a pretty great feeling.

The fans are on their feet now as the official blows his whistle, putting the game back into play, and you somehow find yourself saying the right words, saying just what you're supposed to say. The crowd is screaming and you wonder how the rest of the team will ever hear you, but their enthusiasm is contagious, you realize as the center snaps the ball back to you and you wait for what you know will happen. If you can be as happy as these people cheering you on for the next year, you'll be just fine.

With that thought in mind, you throw the ball to the receiver, watching as he begins the trek to the end zone and makes your fantasy victory a reality.


End file.
